


that ultra kind of love

by punkpete



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Banter, Fluff, M/M, Mania Era, cant have a fic without that, correction: semi-sweet, dumb fob lyric references, how i imagine pete first reacted to the finished album honestly, just a cutesy little drabble, let a girl dream, like patrick, soft and sweet, yet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:05:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpete/pseuds/punkpete
Summary: He’s also in the habit of working himself up into a downright awful tantrum. It’s not as satisfying when he’s alone in the studio. He can’t afford to break any of the equipment, in fact he wouldn’t dream of it. That’s more of Pete’s thing.Or the one where Pete hears the final product of the album and he takes a trip down sappy, sappy memory lane.





	that ultra kind of love

Patrick is frustrated. This is the first time he’s recording vocals for an album alone since _Soul Punk._ He’s never recorded without Pete or a producer in the room for the band before. He thought somehow that not having everyone’s eyes on him would make it easier. Effortless to hit that note or tweak that melody.

 

Somehow, it makes it harder. He loves what he does, but when he doesn’t have anyone to give him feedback it’s like he’s being isolated. No one will hear this for another week. He’s all by himself in the studio going back and forth between his computer and the mic.

 

Patrick loves producing. It comes like second nature to him. He’s never been one to brag about his talent, but he has a pretty unique voice from what everyone tells him.

 

Singing is a little harder from him, however. He doesn’t enjoy it as much as composing. He has the tendency to strain his voice, isn’t always the best with enunciation. He’s a firm believer that there is always room for improvement.

 

He’s also in the habit of working himself up into a downright awful tantrum. It’s not as satisfying when he’s alone in the studio. He can’t afford to break any of the equipment, in fact he wouldn’t dream of it. That’s more of Pete’s thing.

 

Patrick takes off his headphones, rearranges his hat on his head, and decides to take a walk outside.

 

Some fresh air will do him good. Maybe get his creative juices flowing and get his vocal chords to cooperate and not crack, thank you very much.

 

He lets himself kick the brick wall outside with the tip of his shoe, just for good measure. It’s a lot healthier way to get out his aggression. Especially compared to what he used to do. He likes to think he’s mellowed a little with age.

 

He takes a couple deep breaths and gets back to work. He curses himself under his breath as he puts his headphones back on and steps up to the mic. Goddamn his perfectionist tendencies. He’s gonna bring this music to life even if it kills him. He wants to make something different. He wants to make something great.

 

xxx

 

Pete is sitting next to him on the tour bus, grinning from ear to ear and wearing a hideous bright yellow, incredibly expensive hoodie that he decided to ruin further by writing on it in sharpie. They’ve got the laptop between them, and Pete has one ear bud in his ear as he grins and grins at Patrick like the sun itself.

 

“I love it. I don’t want you to change a thing about your voice. You did it perfectly. I knew you would kill it like always, Trick.” Pete continues to beam at him.

 

“Shut up. You haven’t even finished listening. You always have something to bitch at me about.” Patrick huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. Pete gives him a look.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around. Do you actually listen to yourself when you talk?” Pete teases. Patrick punches him in the arm.

 

Pete pouts at him with his big, brown puppy dog eyes.

 

“I swear to God if you ask me to kiss it better I will kill you.” Patrick warns, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow. Pete sighs, his frown becoming a seemingly permanent fixture on his face. They sit in silence for a while after that, Pete tapping out a beat against his thigh and Patrick nervously shifting from side to side as he waits for the final verdict.

 

By the time _Heaven’s Gate_ starts to play, Pete starts tearing up. Patrick is concerned, prepared to ask what’s wrong, but Pete pushes a finger against his lips to shut him up. Once he reaches the final notes of _Bishop’s Knife Trick_ , full on waterworks are streaming down his face. Pete takes out the ear bud, wipes his face with his hands, and turns to face Patrick solemnly.

 

“Was I really that terrible?” Patrick asks. He wishes he could have a little more confidence, but the truth of the matter is no one ever likes the kind of songs he wants to make.

 

“No,” Pete chuckles wetly, grabbing Patrick’s hands in his and squeezing. “It’s wonderful. Your voice is beautiful as usual. It just got me thinking. It moved me, you could say.”

 

Patrick flushes, looking down at his lap to avoid Pete’s hot whiskey eyes.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Patrick whispers, because he doesn’t want to ruin this fragile moment, whatever it is.

 

“It just made me realize how long we’ve been doing this. How long you’ve been by my side. I don’t remember what it’s like to live without you. You’re the one whose been taking my words and making them into real, honest to God art. You’re the one creating the soundtrack to my life. You’re my voice. My golden ticket. My boy. All _mine._ I don’t know how or why it happened but I am so fucking lucky that it did.” Pete says, and the words move through Patrick like a lightning strike. Sometimes, Pete makes these long, poetic, over dramatic speeches, and they don’t affect Patrick at all.

 

Other times, like now, they hit home. Pete’s words make him feel light. Like he’s a precious thing, like he’s special. Pete sings his praises and looks at him like he’s the only one that matters and it can be easy to fall into the habit of being desensitized to it. But Patrick doesn’t want to be that person. Pete Wentz’s affection is worth something. He cares deeply and unashamedly for people. Patrick doesn’t know why Pete picked him from the beginning, but he’s so grateful that he did he can feel his eyes stinging.

 

He can’t imagine his life without this ridiculous man who loves him so much it hurts.

 

“Pete,” Patrick pleads, but he doesn’t know for what. For him to stop. For him to keep going. For him to never leave. “I love you.” Patrick says, for the millionth time, because it feels right.

“I love you too. Until the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away.” Pete gives him a shit-eating grin. Patrick giggles, wiping the tears out of his eyes and shoving Pete back onto the couch cushions.

 

“Stop quoting yourself to me. No wonder people think you have a God complex.” Patrick snorts.

 

“If only they knew.” Pete whispers, trying to sound scandalous. He’s such a fucking dork. Patrick loves him. He crawls into Pete’s lap and hovers over his face, so that their noses are nearly touching and they’re breathing in the same air.

 

“What are we gonna call this record?” Patrick asks, crossing his eyes to meet Pete’s gaze. “It feels purple to me.” He adds as an afterthought.

 

Pete laughs against him, chest shaking and hot breath fanning across Patrick’s neck. It makes him shiver.

 

“Mania.” Pete replies, decisive and not up for argument.

 

“Why? We haven’t even showed Andy and Joe the final cut. You can’t just pick the name and not consult with anyone else.” Patrick groans. Pete is insufferable.

 

“I’m telling you. Mania. It feels right. It’s personal. It’s like my love for you. It’s intense, it comes in waves. High highs and low lows. Like the tide.” Pete says, and then his eyes light up with an idea. “ _Purple_ waves. It’ll look sick, dude.”

 

Patrick kisses him on the mouth, hard. They name the album Mania. Correction: _M AN  I A_ for dramatic effect. Because they can. It’s very Pete. And everyone thinks Patrick is the bossy one. As if.  

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh....i just wanted to post something today before midnight. i just barely made it and wrote this in an hour. be proud of me. it's been stuck in my head since mania dropped. i hope u enjoy it and think its cute and emo. happy birthday pete i love you. hopefully you never read this lmao. come yell about fob with me on tumblr @gothicpete. title is from last of the real ones, of course.


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